


So Human

by Ooze



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Gen, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 20:31:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3582978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ooze/pseuds/Ooze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vergil and Nero arguing because that's what their relationship is built on (apparently). Who says they can't ever bond?</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Human

**Author's Note:**

> I think the DMC4 SE hype has gotten me all motivated to write about these two. I hope I got characterization right. First try at writing DMC.

Vergil never expected any offspring of his to turn out so _human_.

Nero's behavior, then, was even more of a surprise than his actual identity. To think that such an impatient, aggressive, foolhardy, bullheaded, insubordinate teenager could share any possible blood relation with Vergil was a wild guess at best. On the surface, those traits clashed with his father's; but, as it happened, not everything between them was so high in contrast.

There were a handful of similarities between them, but whenever the pair attempted to cooperate when needed, there was always a spark that ignited an argument—it didn't matter on what subject—that promptly made those similarities insignificant to either side.

An observer, however, could probably see through their shared obstinacy to make the connection.

Hence Nero walking quite ahead of his father, in something of a huff, not caring about the distance that grew between them. The day had grown quite long. In Nero's opinion, it was _unnecessarily_ long, but it had also been full; slashing demons to bits here and there, and trying to ignore his overbearing companion. What was more annoying was the way in which Vergil kept his calm. The fact that he hadn't reacted with hostility toward his son was enough to drive the boy up the wall. It was on purpose, Nero believed. He'd spent enough time with him to understand his use of provocation.

As far as Nero knew, his father just wanted to rile him up.

And it was working.

Even though the daylight would fade soon, the work he had to complete wasn't about to go away with the coming of night. The demons they slew—yes, Vergil was being useful—never seemed to understand that their presence was unwanted.

“You're putting too much force into your blows.”

“And you're _seriously_ getting on my nerves.”

Vergil and Nero would go back and forth, regardless of how many demons opposed them. If their fighting styles hadn't scared the miscreants away, then their tempers really should have. According to Nero, however, the inferior demons were “brainless assholes”. Vergil had no comment.

Whether or not Nero asked for it, his father would help him—but more often he would _watch_ him. A small pack of Scarecrows offered Nero the opportunity to clear them on his own, but he did so with considerable discomfort. If he hated having his daddy give him a hand, he hated even more that he was being evaluated.

He knew he'd performed poorly in the eyes of his father, regardless of getting the job done, and that was the final straw. Nero had taken all that he could from his insufferable parent for that day; Vergil didn't have to say a word.

“Damn it!” the youth cursed with a nice snarl to go along with it. “Why are you even here?”

“Embarrassed?”

“Will you be god damned straight with me for once?” The growl in Nero's voice obviously showed that his anger wanted to force itself out and slap Vergil in the face.

The adult found that all so amusing. “I would, but you hardly take yourself seriously. In consequence, _I_ can't take you seriously.” He stepped forward, facial features never betraying the neutrality with which he mostly approached things. Another one of the many traits which irked his son.

Nero felt offended by the violation of space, though Vergil had not gotten close enough to share breathing room. The hostility in his eyes reflected his stormy emotions, and Vergil could recognize some of himself in them. He failed to recognize his own humanity, of course. That still hadn't changed.

Though Nero took on a more relaxed stance, he was by no means calmed. He curled his fists into tight balls as he glared his father in the eye, repeating, “Why are you here?”

“Guidance, companionship—wouldn't this be expected of your father?”

“You're being a prick, _father_ ,” Nero stated, making a point to mock Vergil's new paternal status—which the man was doing a poor job of, by the way.

“Don't take it personally, Nero. I'm helping you in more ways than you could ever help yourself.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

A pause, a moment in which neither of the two budged an inch or said any thing. Their eyes locked, trying to get past the surface to read whatever was hidden deeper. But Vergil had more experience in that; more experience with life in general. He could make educated guesses and form reasonable conclusions about his son, whereas Nero could not do the same for someone who was, very frankly, still a stranger. They had not known each other for more than a few months, give or take.

Unflinching, Vergil replied, “You are too human. Your emotions control you, when it should be the other way around. Control your emotions, adapt, think—but I'm afraid these things might be beyond your capabilities.”

“You really are one hell of a pretentious asshole,” Nero retorted, scoffing at his father's opinion. “I think you've forgotten that I _am_ human, and I've been raised in a human way—in the human world, in case you didn't know.”

“That is unfortunate, I admit,” was Vergil's simple, pitying reply. “But is there anything human in _that_?” He nodded at Devil Bringer, which Nero was quick to hide out of habit. “Nero, I know where your loyalties lie, but you can't turn away from your lineage.”

“You're changing the subject.”

Quietly, Vergil accepted Nero's distaste and focused on his initial complaint. With a recomposed, fresh mind, he asked, “What about me bothers you, then?”

_There_ was a wonderful opportunity for Nero to lay it all out in the open, but he decided against it. He tried to temper himself as he readjusted focus, thinking back to what was specifically bothering him that day. However, he was already beginning to want to forget about the whole thing.

He flexed his hand, trying to sort out the right words before he spoke. Without taking his eyes off his father, he explained; “You being here. You watching me. You doing it on purpose because you know it pisses me off.”

“You're just a boy, Nero. Nothing more.”

“I'm not a little kid who needs my dad to hold my hand. I don't want you to stand there and take mental notes while I'm actually pulling my own weight.”

“Your 'weight', as you put it,” Vergil remarked, “is hardly anything substantial. Is this the problem you're having?”

The way Vergil spoke gave the impression that Nero's feelings were unjustified and, as a result, completely insignificant. Although the look on his face was the same as ever, there was a new air to him that turned out to be even more obnoxious than before. If that was even possible. Nero disliked where the conversation was going—it usually ended up in the same place ever since he began trying to get along with his father. Progress wasn't there.

“For once you sound like an idiot,” Nero grumbled, giving a snarl before he began to turn away. He was finished with their talk.

Vergil had nothing to say, but merely followed with as much patience and quiet as earlier. He made no attempts to make his presence subtle, and Nero picked up on him pretty much at the instant.

“Could you just leave?”

“I could; give me Yamato, and I will.”

Nero halted, and he chuckled at those words. He turned to face Vergil again, wearing a sarcastic smile that came from all the humor of the day. “Really? Is that really the only thing keeping you on my back?”

“I've already told you,” Vergil said, suddenly gravely, “I won't leave until Yamato is returned to me.”

“Then you'll have to stick around a while longer. I'm not giving you a damned thing, _father_.”

Vergil was disappointed by Nero's logic. To think all their problems would have been sorted out if Nero only agreed to cooperate. The boy was too stubborn for his own good. At that, Vergil expressed his dismay. “It's a foolish thing to put yourself in such a position when you could very easily get rid of me.”

“Because I would much rather be forced to deal with you than give you what you want. We're both on even ground this way.” With that being said, Nero finally determined to end the discussion there. He turned away from his father a second time that day, resolving to ignore him more efficiently.

Vergil hadn't realized how much of a bitter young man his son turned out to be. And so human, too, as if to add insult to injury. Nevertheless, he followed Nero through the orange streets, painted so by the sun as it reached the horizon. He let out a soft exhale as he came to the conclusion that Fortuna would become more of a permanent situation for him than he originally intended.

At least he could make the most of it by getting on Nero's nerves in the meantime.


End file.
